We Can Be Heroes ...?

38

The ghost clutched her stomach, writhing in pain. Or it looked as though it did. Shion had no idea whether ghosts could feel pain or not, but this one certainly acted as though it suffered and Shion's heart almost broke at the sight. The glow now covered the ghost, revealing tendrils of spectral light reaching down to the floor. Shion couldn't take any more as the ghost doubled over, howling.

"Stop it! Stop!" She moved to grab hold of Mila's arm, but Dave held her back. She turned on the old, half-blind man. "This is wrong! She's suffering!"

"Maybe a li'le sufferin' will sto' a grea'er wrong, eh, gel." For a man so thin, he had strength enough to hold Shion away from Mila. "I' will be alrigh'."

He was wrong. There was nothing right about this. Though only a ghost, Shion could see the agony in the woman's face as the glow wrapped around her, closing in tighter and tighter until the ghost became trapped, held tight by the glow. Then, the tendrils that attached the ghost to the floor began to writhe, twisting as though they, too, were in pain, before becoming brittle, more solid.

As the light from the stone continued to hold the ghost, the tendrils began to crack, blacken and then, in silence, the tendrils shattered, the glow receded and the ghost stood there, floating above the rotted, dusty floorboards. The ghost stared at its hands, touched her stomach one last time and then smiled, no longer in pain. It began to fade, twinkling motes of energy, like little stars, or tiny fireflies, began to lift up toward the rafters and, within seconds, the ghost faded away.

"Partially filled." Mila looked at the stone in her hand and turned to Shion. "Those tendrils were what held the ghost here. It was in pain because the tendrils fought against releasing her to her final rest."

Dave released Shion and she shrugged herself away from him. The result may well have allowed the ghost to pass on to the next world, but the way it happened would fill Shion's nightmares forever. If she ever slept again. And Mila and Dave showed no concerns for the torment they had put the ghost through, as though she didn't matter.

Then again, little mattered to them. They cared only about themselves, but they had never said or shown themselves to be any different. A game. They considered all of this a game and Shion couldn't. The ghost was once alive. About to blossom into motherhood. Now she had died twice, though she was no longer trapped to repeat her last moments for eternity. There were nuances to this place, and to how Mila and the others dealt with it, that Shion could never come to terms with.

Fighting, she understood. The ghosts and skeletons and zombies that they had faced had all attacked them. Defending herself was one thing. What Mila had done felt tortuous. Not evil, as such, but descending into a more hazy, less opaque world where there were more things to consider and few options for acting with kindness. Shion hated this place more and more the further they travelled.

"What was that racket? Here, Shion, eat one of these." Jova's hand moved in a flash, summoning her parchment and dismissing it within a fraction of a moment and Shion heard a familiar tinkling sound. "I've made level-appropriate food buffs for everyone, and some for future levels."

That was what the twin was doing at the fire downstairs, though Shion had seen no cooking utensils anywhere. They appeared to simply stare at objects and, somehow, come away having created items. Armour and weapons by Dave and food by Jova. Shion accepted the gift and touched the picture of the food, feeling a strength pass through her, though the food never touched her mouth.

"Ghos's bee' release'. I' wasn' pre'y." With a thumb hooked toward Shion, Dave spoke to Jova. "Th' gel didn' like i'. Bi' horrifi'."

"Oh! Poor thing!" The twin looked as though she felt sympathy for Shion, but Shion wasn't so certain it was genuine. "You should see some of the things I've seen. Ugh! One time, I had to choose between two characters. Which one was to die horribly. I chose the woman, obviously, but, still, seeing the man burn to death ..."